TheBanyanTree: Life Stories 167

Fri Mar 2 07:32:40 PST 2007

March 2, 20000000007

Dear Mishpocheh,

	My mother has been away in Las Vegas for a few days and gets 
back today round about noon, lands in the Oakland airport and gets 
driven home by my sister and her husband, Bruce.  Bruce had a 
convention to go to in Las Vegas, and they invited my mom along.  Las 
Vegas.  Not my special place.  I don't gamble and I don't really like 
the shows they put on.  I would, however, enjoy the Liberace museum, 
probably.  And my mother says they went to the Star Trek museum.  A 
whole museum for Star Trek.  She said she laughed through the entire 
thing.  My sister takes science fiction very seriously, so I doubt 
that her laughter was raucous.

	It's been calmer not having my mother around.  Less tension, 
less bickering, less trouble between Feyna and her that I have to 
defuse.  Maybe I'm leaning toward taking my kids someplace away for 
their birthdays.  It'll have to wait until there's a break in school, 
but maybe I should take them somewhere special.  I have had one fine 
person weigh in on this issue.  She said that she liked the idea of 
an experience for a present, and then on the other hand, the money 
means so much to a young person struggling around with minimum wage 
jobs and new responsibilities.  So it's yes and yes, no and no, to 
both.  Yet, she wrote it so eloquently, I didn't mind coming out the 
other end still not knowing what the heck to do.  She knows whom I 
mean.

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On a dare

	I'm not sure who it was that dared me to do it.  My guess is 
that it was Petey Marshall whose little sister, Susie, was my 
playmate.  Petey was the type of boy who was always daring people to 
do things, and taking dares from others.  In fact, he was generally a 
bad egg.  He was the one who threw a rock up into a tree to get a 
bird's nest down.  Wasn't that cruel!  And it was Petey who lay down 
on his sled and rode it under a moving car, right down the middle of 
it, between the tires, from bumper to bumper.  Scared the driver half 
to death.  He screeched to a halt, got out of his car, cursed Petey 
out.  Said he wanted to talk to his parents about it.  Petey wouldn't 
tell him where he lived.  But one of the other kids, a little kid, 
pointed to Petey's and Susie's house and told the man, "He lives 
there."  The man marched right up the front stairs and rang the bell. 
When Petey's mom came to the door, he told her she should keep a 
closer watch on her son, because he nearly got himself killed.  He 
was reckless, and rude, too.  Petey stood there, in the middle of the 
street with his sled, and when his mom called him to come in right 
this instant, he turned tail and ran away down the street.  I had to 
go inside before I found out what happened.

	Petey was notorious at ten years old.  He was one of the big 
kids, and he was always getting into deep trouble.  Susie and I never 
got into trouble.  We were good little girls, just played make 
believe and sang songs while swinging on our swing set.

	It's a good bet that Petey was the one who dared me to ride 
my bicycle straight through a hedge.  It was across the street from 
our houses, outside the apartment buildings.  I have no idea why I 
took him up on the dare.  It wasn't like me.  But it looked like a 
simple thing to do.  All I needed was a good head start to work up 
some momentum.  I was already seven years old, big enough to carry 
this off.  I was sure I could do it.  So I walked my bike way back to 
the top of the hill that our house stood on.  I got on the seat and 
launched myself down the hill pedaling as fast as I could.  I 
probably didn't look very carefully before crossing the street.  My 
mother says I used to duck my head down and run.  I hate to think 
what sort of analogous adult behaviour I exhibit.  Duck my head down 
and run.

	So I got a fine speed up and hit the hedge with a jolt.  It 
resisted, but I kept pedaling, and tore between two bushes in the 
hedge.  SKRAWTCH!  The branches caught on my pants and scraped my 
legs until they were crisscrossed with white and red lines.  My pedal 
pushers were ripped at the hems and my hands got scratched.  I shot 
through to the other side of the hedge, lost my balance and fell into 
a heap with my bicycle's wheels spinning in the air.  Had it been any 
other occasion, meaning, had it been an accident, I would have 
dragged my bicycle home, crying, pointing to my bloody legs.  But 
this had been a dare, and I knew that it called for stoicism.  I 
didn't shed a single tear.  I just untangled myself from the bicycle, 
picked myself up and grinned a big fat grin at whoever it was that 
dared me to do it.  I really think it was Petey.

	I do remember for sure that it was Petey who dared me to walk 
on top of the two by fours that were the top of a scaffolding in the 
construction of the school.  Rock Creek Forest Elementary School was 
adding a new wing.  It had been a long rectangle and now would be 
shaped like an L.  The bare wooden frame of the new wing was left 
out, after the workmen went home, for anyone who wanted to play 
around in it to do so.  The place was not secured or barricaded, and 
there were no warning signs, trespassing signs, or caveats.  Not even 
a, "Do not climb on the construction, you stupid little beasts.  You 
could get hurt."

	Petey dared me to follow him up on to the bare wooden frame, 
and walk the length of the new wing.  If he could do it, I could do 
it.  Like a jerk, I took him up on it.  It wasn't as if I were 
Petey's understudy.  I had no desire to achieve a reputation like 
his, and of course, I didn't want to get hurt.  But that construction 
site was an attractive nuisance if there ever were one.  I wanted to 
climb up there and balance myself on the beams.  All the way up on 
top of the school, like a tight rope act, on a two by four.

	Petey found a toe hold in the cross beams, and clambered to 
the top.  I clambered right after him.  There were other kids who 
were joining in.  We were a circus act.  Death defying walk high 
above the ground without a net.  Five dumb kids with their arms stuck 
out to their sides to balance them.  Look what I can do!  We managed 
the length of the wing with Petey in front, leading us to glory. 
Then, he lost his balance and fell forward, hit himself on the wood 
beams on the way down to the ground.  Everyone froze right where we 
were.  Petey landed among piles of lumber, buckets of nails, an 
assortment of saws.  He screamed bloody murder.  None of us knew what 
to do, so we all climbed down and ran home.  Susie and I ran in to 
tell Mrs. Marshall that Petey fell off the new school and was crying. 
She dropped what she was doing and came running.  I went to my house 
and told my mother what had happened, except for the part where I was 
up there as well.

	"Did you do that, too?" she asked me.

	I lowered my head.  "Yes," and then added, "But I didn't get hurt."

	"You could have gotten hurt.  Don't do that.  Stay away from 
the building."

	"Okay."  I was thoroughly chastened.

	The next day, Petey showed up with a white plaster cast on. 
He'd broken his arm in two places.  He was proud of himself, not 
crying any more.  He said the cast had to stay on for six weeks, and 
if we were nice to him, we could sign it.  I never took anyone up on 
a dare ever again.

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-- 

Tobie Helene Shapiro
Berkeley, California   USA

tobie at shpilchas.net